


The Konoha Chronicles

by KuraiTsuky



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Background Relationships, Backstory, Blood Magic, Elementals, Elves, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Forbidden Love, Fox Spirit - Freeform, Half-Elves, M/M, Mages, Multi, Night Elves, Paladins, Post-War, Rating May Change, Redemption, Requited Love, Violence, Women In Power, eventual threesome - F/M/M, rogues - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-22 12:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6078870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuraiTsuky/pseuds/KuraiTsuky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Fire Empire has burnt his last, with the death of Great Archmage Hashirama and the disappearance of Grand Apothecary Madara, the other kingdoms have raided his empire to the ground, his widow and brother are forced into exile at the faraway island of Uzushio.<br/>Twenty years later, the Sacred City of Konoha lies in waiting for the one who will inherit the Archmage mantel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Awakening I

**Author's Note:**

> I probably should be writing Verbum Diaboli but I can't take this thing out of my mind so I hope you enjoy.

## The Awakening I

 

 

Konoha is silent like a grave; the long shadows of its ruined buildings create an ominous feeling about it. Obito must concentrate to be silent as he feels a sense of recognition pulling at his stomach. Impatience nags at him as cold sweat rolls down his back. He knows he shouldn’t be here, but he cannot shed the unmistakable sensation that he _has_ to. Obito fights all the abnormal nervousness weighting down on him trying to remind himself that this is the kind of thing he does, this is his job now and what he excels at.

He’s so on edge he can’t help but feel he’s being watched. Obito wonders if it’s another Rogue, but soon dismisses his concerns, only his crew is mad enough to venture in the Fire City. Despite the uneasiness he keeps on walking, and no matter how many turns and tricks he uses the eyes are always a few steps behind.

Konoha is not just like a tomb, it _is_ a tomb. Skeletal remains of those not deemed important enough to be saved in the evacuation still lay on the streets, contributing to the look of defeat that inundates the city. It makes Obito angry somehow, to see such magnificence brought so low. He shouldn’t get emotionally involved, least when he’s contributing to that decadence with his mere presence, but he can’t help it. The gawking feeling is only getting stronger as he walks on.

Obito stops suddenly when he sees it, The Tree or rather, what’s left of it. A dead trunk and a thousand rotten leaves at its roots. The decaying thing still towers over him and every other building around it and he doesn’t understand how he missed it. The golden bark of legend has long since peeled off but the pale wood underneath looks more beautiful than anything Obito has ever seen. He’s tempted to take a sliver with him but his senses return in time to notice the change in the sun, night is falling and he has yet to find the Great Chamber where all the treasures have to be stored.

Obito is almost drooling as he thinks of the all the gold and magic artifacts he’s going to find when a noise at his back brings him back to reality, turning around he can see a crack on the wood of the great tree he left behind. He approaches against his better judgement and starts to recognize the strange calling that has plagued him since he entered the city as a voice. It seems to come from the  inside, or perhaps it’s that deep, unending darkness the one that calls him.

Gripping the harsh wooden edges, he takes a step inside. For a moment, Obito seems to float on top of the seemingly infinite blackness, and then he’s swallowed by it. He feels an irresistible pull on his belly and he falls.

 

Obito wakes up slowly, he’s lying down on a cold hard floor, he tries to move but his whole body hurts. Blinking the tiredness out of his eyes, he realizes he doesn’t know where he is or how he got here. He tries to move again and after struggling with his own limbs some more, Obito manages to sit up, his head spinning, he turns to the side retching.

When he’s finally able to see straight, he looks around as the memories of his fall start to come back. Once he was absorbed by the darkness he realized it was filled with small colored lights, like fireflies dancing around his face. Suddenly, one of those tiny shines appears again in front of his nose as more come alive filling the room with light.

Everything is so bright around him he has to shield his eyes. It’s not gold, it’s not the treasure he was expecting but an almost empty room filled with strange carvings. There is a sword lying on what looks like an altar, a simple rusty thing, and a short wooden staff unadorned. No gold or precious stones in sight, Obito knows he should be disappointed. Instead, the strange longing that invaded him as he crossed the gates intensifies making him scramble to his feet and almost run towards the two objects.

His left hand finds the sword; the blade is dulled due to long years unused, the handle, covered with dust is made of the same steel as the blade, there seems to be a transparent stone mounted in it but it looks dull and cracked, like crystal that has gone too long without care. As he examines the sword, his fingers find the short staff, the wood is strong and hard like rock, smoot too, almost unnaturally so, and seeing it up close now he realizes there is a small pattern on its surface resembling vines or perhaps roots. Obito spends a few moments examining both objects, but then, as his eyes are drawn to the intricate design on the staff when the sword vibrates. He doesn’t have time to be surprised as the staffs does it too.

They both start to warm up to the point of burning his skin and although he tries to let go of them his fingers seem glued to the handles and he simply can’t. There is a strange light coming from the gem in the sword that looked like old crystal, the vines on the staff shine and a terrible pain invades him. The light is red, like fire and he very much feels like he’s burning. Obito screams his pain away as the light becomes fiercer, bigger and despite slowly going blind before it, he can’t look away. Red turns to violet which turns to blue, a deep blue, almost green. Then the light recedes, slowly fading and when it is fully gone and Obito recovers the ability to see he observes that even though the sword is still rusty, the gem pulsates with a strange crimson gleam and the staff shines with the color of the sea.

 

The watcher looks on as the Rogue enters the city and is mildly impressed when he survives the traps. None of those who were stupid enough to try and sack the city before him had. He takes a long, twisty path and while he follows, he realizes the other has detected his presence. It matters not, he has spent long years becoming familiarized with the city and its secrets, a lowly rogue won’t mislead him so easily. For a moment he’s amused, but then the rogue finds The Tree. He has come too far. The watcher is readying his sword to take out the intruder when the trunk splits, and he can only look on bewildered how the other is sucked into it. He won’t have anything to do with the thief now, his fate has already been decided. He is tempted to wait, but the other is already dead he’s sure, so the watcher, the last guardian left in Konoha, turns his back on what is, like him, one of the few remains of a city once glorious and with a bout of sadness he cannot explain slowly walks away wondering if there will be a body left.

Later, when the sky is black as death and the moon reigns supreme, he eats a skinny rabbit in his makeshift home trying to imagine is something better while thanking the gods for it not being rat at the same time. Tomorrow will be another boring day he’s sure, and he wishes he had had a fight at least. His spoon is halfway to his mouth with a small bit of rabbit and the watery liquid that makes up the rest of the stew, when something distracts him.

It is a light, that filters from under the curtain that functions as his house’s door. The light is blue and green and as he jumps from his cross legged position the spoon, the stew and the skinny rabbit are all but forgotten. He runs outside and stops dead in his tracks when he sees the spectacle before him.

The moon is red, tinted with the color of blood, but that is not the most impressive thing. The Tree, dead as it had been a few hours ago, now shines green and blue and golden and from his roots, thousands of lines in those colors come out growing out the green in the burnt city of Konoha.  The watcher looks then at his feet where a generous layer of grass has already formed and sees that amongst the wisps little flowers have started to bloom.

He falls to his knees and bows his head before the moon whose light colors his silver hair pink.

All the dreams, all the hopes that seemed as dead as Konoha’s ruins seem to bubble up in his chest and he can’t contain them for it has begun.

Konoha awakens.


	2. The Awakening II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the action, there is always the reaction.

## The Awakening II

 

Minato looks on and smiles, everything he hoped has come to pass. Naruto watches open mouthed by his side, he can see the fox fire burning in his son’s eyes as even the greatest of spirits wants to bow before such power. Minato trembles, he’s excited but also afraid of what will come. After all, the announcement can be seen throughout the four corners of the earth. He wonders if Kushina is seeing it from whenever she is as his heart longs painfully for her. Naruto, perhaps sensing his distress, holds his hand and smiles that smile that makes him look so much like his mother.

They look on, and Minato can’t help but feel guilty, it was the right thing to do he knows, he’s known who Obito was, who he was supposed to be from the beginning but what he’s taken from him, the path of destruction that opens now in front of him, is his doing. He will have to tell him, to come clean, Minato only wishes he had more time. As soon as Obito gets back, he tells himself, they will talk then, make things right.

He tries to get his son to sleep but the bright magic is still burning and there is no way to calm the little fox. Minato still prepares the bed and this time, he hides a dagger on his side of the pillow.

 

She knows its Obito. Rin can feel him in that beam that reaches the skies. She grips her senbon and forces her muscles not to tremble. Big things are coming their way and not all of them are good, she just knows it. She can smell it in the wind that is changing. Her work has become more complicated tonight.

Rin doesn’t know much about the War or the history of Konoha, growing up those subjects never seemed as important as staying alive. Surviving has always been her main concern but she knows how important this is, everyone in the world is sure to recognize this light, this power that reaches even the darkest of places. Rin is ready, even if she doesn’t fully understand what’s going on in front of her eyes; she’s prepared for whatever comes. Rin turns around and circles the camp once more making sure the precautions she took are still in place.

Her job is to protect and protect she will. No matter the hardships that will come starting tomorrow, no matter who or what they have to fight, they’ll make it; she’ll make sure of it. Rin realizes she’s been holding her senbon all this time and carefully puts them away. For this she might need more persuasive weapons, but for now her hands will do.

Looking up again she smiles, it really is beautiful.

 

 

Tobirama is practicing late. He should try to sleep more, like Mito always recommends. But he can’t. Twenty long years have passed and he isn’t getting any younger, if they don’t act soon he will wither away and die without recovering the land of his Father, of his Brothers. Thinking of them, Tobirama misses a step and barely catches himself in time to land kneeling. Furious with himself, he starts the form again from the beginning. He has to stop soon though, now that he’s started remembering he can’t quite shut the memories down.

Twenty years and it still hurts as if it were yesterday. Before him he can see Hashirama falling, betrayed, alone. He was too slow that day, too weak to take the sword and staff onto himself and fight back. He was even too slow to catch his brother as he fell. It was Madara the one who did that, that blasted Madara. They agreed that day as they screamed their pain, for the first time in their lives they agreed on something and it only took his brother’s life to make them stand together. He should have been more flexible, like Hashirama always said.

But they did it, in the end they fought together, for all the good it did. And then, after the end they did run together, hide together and then, Madara vanished and he was left alone holding in his hands the shreds of a kingdom and a whole lot of memories.

And Mito, let’s not forget Mito; Tobirama has never loved a woman, but if he could he would surely love Mito. She’s the Queen now, the true Queen and soon, soon he will take back their Kingdom for her.  

Tobirama prepares his magic and modifies his stance but as he moves, the faraway land of Konoha illuminates, for the first time in twenty years, for the first time since that day and he stops in his tracks, openmouthed as the fire starts to burn again in his veins.

 

Mito wakes in the middle of the night feeling the warmth of life spreading through her body. The Queen-in-exile is startled; since her husband died she has not felt such a thing. A moment later, Tobirama comes in running and disheveled into her room. She has never seen him so shaken before, even when they had to run from Konoha. Then he points at her window and she understands.

The usually beautiful and calm sea of Uzushio shines red under the moon, but beyond the sea, in the horizon of what once was her city, she can see a green light. Her heart misses a beat; she knows this light as if it were her own.

Mito grips Tobirama’s arm and forces the tears back. It is not Hashirama the one that stands now under the World Tree, but whoever it is, he brings hope and war with him.

Later, when they’ve had time to reflect questions start to arise.

 “Konoha has lain dormant for twenty years, why now?” She looks intently at her brother in law, Tobirama seems miffed and if Mito is correct, also a little jealous that some other has inherited his brother’s mantel and not him.

“I don’t know good-sister” he says and she can see the gears of his head work into overload “but whoever woke it must be a powerful mage. Perhaps what we always hoped has happened and a champion has risen to defend you”

Kushina, her mind supplies, but she knows her niece lies asleep a few rooms away, so who, she wonders, who could have the power to claim the Sword and Staff? In Hashirama’s life there was only one who as his rival in power, has Madara return then?

Could it be? Mito doesn’t dare hope.

 

 

Kushina isn’t sleeping, she can hear uncle Tobirama a few stories down practicing, but it’s not him who keeps her awake. It is another man of light hair that plagues her thoughts every sleeping moment and every waking too. She thinks about Naruto and wonders about how much he must have grown by now. She wonders if he remembers her. Kushina wants to cry, but she can’t allow herself that weakness, she’s the last wall of Uzushio and her strength is what keeps her little family alive.

Even if she’s torn in two, she’s not the girl who fell in love anymore, she is a woman now and she has her duty. Naruto will be safe, she knows, and happy, Minato will see to that. If things were different… if things were different she would be a real princess in a real palace, she would be free to marry and breed as many rosy babies as she wanted, she wouldn’t have to fight unless she wanted to. But things are as they are and she is before anything else, a protector.

With her eyes still wet, she puts the locket with the images of the two people he loves the most in this world away and lies down trying to sleep.

Rushed footsteps make her open her eyes and go for her sword. She jumps from the bed as silent as possible and approaches the door, she doesn’t make it. The sword falls from her hand and she walks into the balcony like in a trance. Light, blue and green and so many more colors she can’t make them all out, dazzling them all out. Kushina feels goosebumps. Is this what aunt Mito always referred to? The power of life, of creation, the power to kill them all. Unable to help herself, she reaches out with a hand towards the light and even from this distance she can feel a soft, kind warmth spreading over her fingers.

Kushina smiles, but it is not a nice smile, she looks more like a wolf about to go in a hunt. There is something she’s been meaning to do for some time, this is the signal she was waiting for. Her smile softens though, when she wonders if Minato had a hand in this.

 

The Uchiha complex is in red alert, guards come and go, dusting long forgotten siege weapons and mounting them back into the walls. Shisui can hear their rushed steps and breaths, it is impossible to ignore the deafening alarm that keeps sounding over the commotion. After some struggling, he manages to get to the balcony and slide back the paper doors.

The wind in his face is warm like a lover’s caress. Shisui wishes he could see, even at this distance, he can feel the glorious magic close to the skin. The feeling is more powerful than anything he’s felt before, seeing it must be unbelievable.

With the alarm still going off, he can’t quite concentrate on it, but there is something oddly familiar in the underlining magic, something he thinks he may recognize. Some guards storm in, his lover is with him. Shisui smiles, even if he didn’t recognize the smell, or the pattern of steps or the silent way in which he moves, the preoccupation that flows in waves out of him is enough. It makes him a bit angry too that Itachi has rushed to him and not to the little ones. He might be blind but he’s still not useless.

The heir seems to feel his discomfort and makes the guards leave. He gets close and Shisui, despite himself, takes refuge in the warmth of his chest. Whoever is commanding the Sword and Staff now will need allies, will need help. He might even need a blind man.

Still in his arms, Shisui snuggles up to his partner and whispers “Tell me what you see”  

 

 

Tears feel strange on his face, cold and warm all at once, like all those feelings running amok inside of him. Is it time then to come back? He wonders, for too long has he grieved, hidden from this bleak, cruel world. Looking to the distant light one last time, the hermit turns around and walks laboriously back to his hut. He’ll have to sleep on it.

 

 

In a faraway land a man with only an eye looks at the sky with his remaining one and curses.

 

 

Obito feels dust on his head and shoulders and as he looks up he can see the ceiling cracking. Around him the walls and floor proceed to do so too, Obito tries to move, run to safety, instead the staff moves on his own upwards, carrying him with it.

Obito emerges from the Tree covered in light as the rest of the world seems to crumble around him.


	3. Reborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obito still in shock over what happened expects some answers, but only finds more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter doesn't have much dialogue since I'm still establishing the characters, but the next one will be more conversation heavy so please bear with me.  
> Despite the lack in dialogue I hope you like it!

## Reborn

 

 

The light dissipates amidst the rain. Obito looks to that sky that’s soaking him to the bone. The staff has cooled in his hand and the sword’s shine has dulled. Around him, the Great Tree has turned to dust and the small speckles of wood are being blown away in the wind. The downpour is so violent he’s soon submerged up to his knees in mud. Obito doesn’t care; his whole body feels raw, as if he has found something important, something he has always lacked. He doesn’t fully understand the sensation, but even though he knows he should get the hell out of there, he can’t help watching until the roots fade away. There is a pain in his heart when the last of the wood disappears.

Wet in unspeakable places and with his limbs half frozen, Obito gives a step and then another towards the exit of the city. But then a figure steps in front of him, cutting his retreat. The figure has his face covered but over the strange mask he can see wet locks of silver hair. They look at each other for what seems like hours, then the figure falls to his knees before him and bows.

Obito doesn’t know what to say, in fact he’s tempted to turn around and run. As an apprentice of the Order he was average at best and far from revered, and as a Rogue he’s used to people sneering at him, not adoring him. Still confused, Obito approaches the figure but as he’s doing the motion to make him stand, the man throws himself at him blade first. Obito hasn’t seen him take out the fine white dagger, but manages to stop it with his own weapon. The sword feels heavy and dull in his hand and the sound it makes when the dagger hits the edge once and again is terrible, deafening like the cries of a newborn.

Obito tries to push his assailant away but the other won’t budge. With a flourish his sword is lost and, scared, he grips the staff in both hands. He’s going to die if it continues this way. Obito is not much of a fighter, he’s athletic but his muscles are best suited for infiltration and spying, usually either Minato –sensei or Rin are the ones that take up arms. 

He can feel the sting of the white blade on his skin. Then all the fear disappears, burned away by an unspeakable rage.

 

Kakashi watches in awe as the other’s eyes start to shine, deep red and angry. The staff illuminates and elongates, twisting in over itself. Even the sword, now far away from them glows. There is a warm feeling running through his veins as the magic surrounds them. There is something in that Rogue that calls him. Kakashi knows then it is him, the one he’s been hoping for his whole life. It is ironic really, every time he dreamt with the heir to the artifacts he imagined a strong mage, wise beyond his years and full of dignity. Instead, it seems to be a dirty Rogue who also is hopeless in close combat and unable to control his magic. It could be worse, Kakashi imagines, but he can’t help being a little disappointed, and he won’t admit even to himself, slightly jealous. He tries to hold his ground but the air seems to have gotten hotter and with a wave it pushes him away. His father’s dagger slips from his fingers as he falls and his porcelain mask cracks. Kakashi tries to get up, but the magic presses him on the mud until he stops struggling.

He watches warily at the Rogue, for what he’s read about them and the few unfortunate souls that tried to get into the Sacred City before this one, he knows they are pitiful creatures, guided by the lowest of emotions and even though this one has to be different to be chosen, right now he can crush him and he’s never seen a man spare a fallen enemy. Kakashi braces for the pain, for the burn, but it never comes. He opens the eyes he didn’t remember closing and sees a hand extended in front of his face.

 

Obito stops dead in his tracks as soon as the other lays unarmed, the most vicious part of him want to show him just how much of a mistake it was to cross him, but something makes him stop. The mask has broken; it falls in pieces from his attacker’s face. He’s young, more less his age Obito surmises as the anger starts to fade. He’s still wary but then a shine catches his eye, there is a symbol on the previously hidden collar. It is a spiral with a sharp pointy edge on the left. It looks like a weird snail, Obito thinks, but he can’t help the urge to touch it, there is longing in his heart when he sees it and all that crimson magic around him begins to dispel. His fingers ghost near the man’s face and Obito blushes. He has his eyes closed and is trembling but all that tension doesn’t subtract from his beauty.

Suddenly those dark silvery eyes open and Obito swallows, knowing he’s been caught. The magical aura is gone but he still feels something akin to lightning running through his veins. With his hand a few inches from his attacker’s skin and a blush coloring his cheeks, Obito feels quite weak, his legs are wobbly. Swallowing again he watches as the other gets to his feet. He has so many questions but they just refuse to come out. He’s losing his time again he knows but it takes a conscious effort to sidestep the man and walk away.

 

Kakashi watches him go and for a moment he only stands there, looking on. But then he sprints towards his house and does what he thought he’d never do, he packs his things as well as he can and runs after the Rogue. He makes sure to stay out of sight; he needs to form an opinion about him before approaching again. But as he keeps to the shadows, ironically much like a rogue himself, he remembers the delicate blush on the other’s cheeks and can’t help but wonder. In the following hours he finds quite a bit about the Rogue, he learns his name is Obito and if his pointed ears weren’t enough tell, he also learns he’s not completely human. Obito, Obito, Kakashi repeats the name in his mind trying to familiarize himself with it. His master, the blond man who dresses like a ragged Paladin is called Minato and is the father of a small child, also blond, and also half-elven.

Kakashi is quite surprised, he’s read about the taboo children but he had thought it a strange practice, to see two in such a small group must be rare. Despite the novelty, the one that surprises him more is the woman. She has purple clan marks on her cheeks, but she wears no symbol stitched in her clothing so he can’t place her. What is most outrageous is in fact what she’s wearing. In his books there was no mention of such short and tight garments. Much to his shame he can’t keep his eyes from wandering over her figure. She moves silently looking subtly to all angles. As soon as he sees this, he knows she’s the dangerous one, the one he has to be wary of.

Lying on a thick branch, he watches the camp for a while before sleep tempts him. Kakashi moves from his position only to rest his head on his forearms and close his eyes. He will have to sleep in short periods not to lose them.

 

Obito is distraught as he gets to camp. In the end he didn’t get any of the treasures and despite knowing deep inside the two objects still in his hands are special they’re not what he’d been looking for. But as he walks into the perimeter, he finds himself enveloped in Minato’s –sensei’s arms. The odd feeling that’s been bugging him since the nature of the mission was mentioned comes back stronger, inside the hug, he doesn’t understand , Minato is mainly a tactile man, and usually pats him in the head a minimum of ten times a day but hugs are something he doesn’t give freely. But due to the motion, the Sword and Staff press against him, is in that moment that Obito finally recognizes the feeling and everything clicks into place.

This mission was Minato’s idea, as was sending him without Rin as backup. He didn’t give it much thought at the time, maybe he should have. Obito has always been, to a degree, aware of the blonde’s manipulations, yet this time it irks him. He pushes free of the embrace feeling betrayed and stalks away not offering a greeting to the rest of their party. He knows it’s childish and that he should have outgrown that sort of behavior but for the first time all of this started, he feels like himself again. Obito sits away from the group, sticking the sword into the ground and starts inspecting the staff. He feels much more comfortable with it than the sword.

He looks closer and realizes that rather than carved, the lines seem to be burned in the wood. It had been a smooth piece when he took it up but now the pattern doesn’t seem to disappear. Caressing the lines, trying perhaps to make sense of all this situation, Obito pinches his finger with a loose splinter. As he presses to take it out a drop of blood slides over his skin into the staff.

The damned splinter won’t come out, Obito fumes when his attempts only sink it in deeper.

Laughter distracts him from his task and when he looks up he realizes that somehow, he’s now sitting in what appears to be a never-ending white flatland. In front of him is a man but when he reaches out for the sword, Obito notices it’s gone. Or rather, it’s hanging from the man’s crimson armor.

“For a moment there I thought you were him” the rich voice of the man resonates with sadness in the empty immensity, he then smiles a blinding smile, that takes ten years of weariness from his face and scratches the back of his head like a child “Let’s start again! Hi! I’m so happy that you’re the one inheriting me!”

Obito doesn’t know what to say, a thousand questions bubble up in his throat fighting to get out, but one in particular bugs him.

“Who did you think I was?” He is really curious because he’s always been the weird boy; the one that never looked like anyone. The man’s brown eyes seem to darken again, with fury perhaps but his voice sounds ragged when he whispers “Madara”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review please :3  
> Btw, I'll be answering the day I post the next chapter, so don't think me rude or that I forgot if I don't do it right away.
> 
> PD: I'll be updating this twice a month with my other ongoing fic, that way I can have enough time to write both of them and not lose on quality. So if you like Kakashi/Obito check out my other stories, I basically only write about them.


	4. Heirloom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some answers and a fight, and a whole world opened up for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it, as promised it's dialogue heavy. I'm also not very good with the fighting scenes so I hope you can forgive me.   
> Comments are love <3

## Heirloom

 

Minato looks at Obito’s sulking not knowing what to do. Obito is more brilliant than most people give him credit for, even him it seems, since he didn’t expect his pupil to figure things out so quickly. He would have wanted to explain, but looking back, Minato realizes he doesn’t have any explanation to give.

“You shouldn’t have done it” Minato is well used to Rin sneaking up to him that he doesn’t bother flinching. He knows he did the right thing, but the guilt at disappointing Obi prevents him from confronting her. Rin has always been awfully protective of him, but that’s only normal, Obito has something that makes people want to protect and love him, at least decent people, Minato thinks remembering the hard times in the Order. His own son is giving him the silent treatment in a show of empathy towards his older brother. He should be jealous, Minato thinks, but Naruto has always had a special harmony with Obito and since he practically raised the brunet, he’s always viewed both of them as his children. Rin slaps him in the head for dozing off and he laughs lightly under her disapproving gaze.

“I did what had to be done” he adds.

She can’t exactly argue with that, but she can still be upset with the way it was done “I understand you wanted for him to have a childhood,-that you wanted us all to have one” she doesn’t say “but you didn’t prepare him for any of this.”

Minato sighs “no one could have prepared him for this. If only Jiraya were here…”

“I ah….I should secure the perimeter…” he listens to Rin’s excuse and is tempted to laugh, she’s not very good with empathy still. Then again, with her upbringing is only logical. It still hurts a bit that no one has even tried to understand his position. He looks on as the girl surveys their surroundings and wonders if his master was wrong, if he made a mistake by sending him in this quest. He can’t ask though, Jiraya is long dead and he’s left here trying to figure things out on his own.

                 

He’s moody, and childish, Kakashi decides as he watches the brunet stalk away sullenly. And it’ll take a long time to shape him into a leader. He wants to get to work right away but is, much to his chagrin, afraid to approach. So long alone has apparently left him with an incurable mistrust of people.

After a while lying on his belly, he aches to change positions. Kakashi moves and the woman suddenly turns towards him, afraid, he covers his mouth with his hand and forces his sore muscles not to give even a twitch. After a while she turns back again but he doesn’t dare to shift even an inch.

Is it normal to stay still for so long? He wonders, Kakashi is used to long vigilances but this is beyond that, the man he’s been observing wouldn’t have such discipline. It’s puzzling really, his books didn’t prepare him for any of this. A part of him longs for his loneliness, but the biggest part of him only wishes to be down there with this people who, though not very trustworthy, seem at least a colorful contrast to the bleak days in Konoha. He’s read every book he’s ever found in the ruins but is not the same as this, nothing in those old pages could have prepared him for all this confusing and slightly disheartening feelings. Kakashi scolds himself, he has given everything to the Sacred City, but in the end his fickle heart wants more.

He looks at Obito again and wonders, once more if his quiet is normal while fighting the impulse of doing something about it.  

 

Then Rin’s scream of alarm rips through the small encampment.

 

“Madara” Obito repeats slowly, the word leaving a strange taste in his mouth. He wishes he could ask more about it but the next question is already spilling from his lips “Who are you? And what do you want form me?” And what do you mean by inheriting? A small voice in his head supplies, but he’s too afraid of the answer to go there yet.

“I am Hashirama Senju.”

The name booms around them with a resonating power, even a lousy history student like Obito knows it. He stares, half in awe, half in recognition, as if the other were a good friend he’s simply meeting again. It takes Obito some time to realize that those feelings come from the staff he’s still holding.

“DON’T DROP IT!!” the man, the legend yells making his grip automatically tighten.

“When you do, this connection will immediately break” he adds in a softer tone signaling to the plains around them “and I don’t know if I’ll be able to resume it”

Obito wants to start asking again but with a smile and a gesture of his hand, the other stops him and continues talking.

“Let me answer before asking again” he says in a playful yet commanding tone “You asked what I wanted from you… Maaaa… that is such a complicated question…” he whines, all regal pretense dropped “I guess I have to star by explaining how I came to be the man you see before you so you can understand fully the implications of you being my heir”

There is that word again, Obito cringes when he hears it but even the fear that nibs at him can’t quench the pike of interest he feels right now.

“I all started long after I had realized my dream of founding my city of Magic. Most stories begin with a birth or something epic like an omen, but since it’s my own it would seem too arrogant on my part to start in such a way, aside from being too time consuming. So instead, well start when it matters.

I had just met my future wife, and peace was taken for granted by everyone, even me who had been raised amidst wars. When I accepted my brother’s recommendation about choosing an Heir, I incurred the wrath of one of the other students who proceeded to turn my creation to ashes. Don’t get me wrong, I have to blame only myself. I was too blind, too confident in my powers to see darkness sweeping into my city, and the world paid dearly for my arrogance.”

Hashirama makes a pause, his breath is ragged and he has fist his hands to stop the trembling.

Despite his eagerness to know more, Obito instinctively knows he shouldn’t speak and makes no sound, rather deciding to keep on listening. His head is spinning though, trying to fill in all the gaps in Hashirama’s story and there are so many, but it’s that word the one that weights on him, heir, when associated with him they sound so alien…

“In the end, when I realized the battle was lost, I used my wife’s rune ability to bind my magic to my two weapons” Hashirama tries not to think of Mito and the miserable life he gave her. He clears his throat coming back to the matter at hand.

“I didn’t think I would die, not really, not until my heart stopped. Such was my arrogance.” He laughs bitterly.

“When I died, I assume my family hid the two objects in wait of the deserving one. That’s you…”

“So you can help me?” Obito interrupts with a tint of desperation in his voice. He really, really needs someone that will explain to him what are all this strange things that invade him and threaten to drown him. He’s quite disillusioned when the other shakes his head.

“I am no more than an impression of my former self, I have no power in your plane” he makes a pause “my brother would, so would Mito. But the power is yours now, is _in_ you, you only have to listen to it and let it teach you… I think someone is calling from your side” Hashirama interrupts himself and starts to speak rushed.

“I’m sorry to charge you with straightening out my mistakes, it’s a task I wouldn’t wish on anyone” he looks around as the white plains start to vanish “Stick to those you trust and don’t err in the same way I did, don’t ever be prideful or you’ll lose more than yourself”

He disappears and for a moment, Obito keeps looking to the place Hashirama stood up till a few seconds ago. He thinks he hears someone calling his name, he blinks as the world seems to recover its colors and his hearing comes back to normal. Indeed someone is calling or rather yelling his name and by the intensity of it, it seems to have been going on for a while.

“Obito, Obito, OBITO! SNAP OUT OF IT!” Rin shakes him until he pushes her away.

“Wha…” his voice is rough “what is going on?”

“We’re under attack!” she screams almost in his ear, for good measure, and looking around he realizes she’s right. Then, unsheathing her daggers, she throws herself in the midst of the battle.

 

Awake now, Obito turns around for a moment to get a clear picture of the situation, he can see Naruto’s fox fire floating in a circle around the boy, his father swinging his great sword and Rin seemingly appearing and disappearing, leaving a string of corpses in her way. Obito sprints towards the sword but before he can reach it, it jumps into his hand, despite seeing him armed, Rin runs towards him determined to protect him, but the magic that surrounds him is burning and this time it’ll be him protecting her.

 

Kakashi sees the fight unfold before his eyes, he crouches prepared to jump into the brawl while still debating with himself whether that is a good idea. There is a blinding bout of light, when it dissipates, he can recognize Obito standing in the middle with the staff and sword shining in his hands. He looks stronger, imposing. He even looks taller. The pull of his aura is enticing and it drives Kakashi to let himself fall by his side with his white dagger in hand. Obito doesn’t spare a glance for him, if he’s surprised, he doesn’t show it but his aura quickly expands to encompass the both of them.

“Cover me” is the only thing he says before advancing towards the woman, who is getting overwhelmed. There is something in Obito’s voice that compels Kakashi to obey. He runs dancing with his blade in the edges of Obito’s light, taking on some of the men attacking the woman. She’s good, he thinks, seeing three of them fall before her at the same time, but there are just too many.

From the corner of his eye, Kakashi can see the blond master barely able to hold his ground while protecting the little boy that stands behind him, seemingly just looking on. Then the blue flames grow and move towards their assailants leaving nine scorched marks on the ground. Despite the attack, his father doesn’t receive much respite.

“Who are you?!” the woman screams over the sound of the fight, as his dagger hits her attacker from behind, but as he’s turning he can see another man falling, he had thought to stab him in the back but as his body splashes the mud around his boots, he can see a bunch of needles sticking out of his neck.

“Thank you!” he yells at her over the battle cries. Kakashi then grips his weapon harder and presses his back against hers.

The warmth of the stranger against her back feels oddly reassuring, Rin thinks. He still hasn’t answered about his identity, but before she can ask again, another light, this even bigger than the last, surrounds them all.

“OBITO!” She shouts, but her voice is drowned by her enemies’. When the light dissipates what’s left of the attacking party just runs away, leaving behind the charred corpses of their comrades. Rin watches at Obito with awe as his feet touch the ground, his magic now dissipating, is still heavy on the air. His eyes also start to lose the red shine that had come over them.

 

As he slowly lands, he can feel all his surety and conviction slipping through his fingers.

Obito is scared, he looks at what he’s done, he looks at the muddy horizon and all the covert promises it holds and he’s terrified. He’s not a hero, he’s not a great mage or a leader.

He’s just himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next month, introductions.


	5. Follow the Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Obito awakens his power, different parties start to search for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm so sorry for the wait, however, when I reached this chapter a couple months ago I realized that despite having planned the beginning and the end of this story I still had no idea of how to reach that end. So I've been sorting out my thoughts.This is what I came up with.

Tobirama feels oddly cold. There is a tremor running through his body, even faintly, he can feel that familiar magic that makes him both want to laugh and cry. His brother’s and someone else’s. Hashirama is gone, he knows this better than anyone except maybe Mito, but he still has to remind himself of it every morning, even after so long.

Sometimes though, there is another face he expects to see as he turns on the corner. But for some reason, remembering, even thinking about its owner is even more painful. If Tobirama were a man slightly less loyal he would have given up long ago. Keeping what’s left of Konoha alive weights too much on his sanity. But he made a promise and even if everyone around him leaves him behind, he’s not one to cower and run, he’ll take on whatever comes head on, until his last drop of blood. He always was his brother’s keeper.

This will mark the first time he goes out of Uzushio since they retreated here. The backpack weights on his shoulders as if it were filled with rocks and a feeling of dread pools in his stomach as he exits the city at the break of dawn. He said his goodbyes yesterday, Mito even threw a meager party for him but it still leaves him with a sensation of emptiness that no one is there to bid him farewell even if he himself requested it to be so. It is not like him to be so confused, to find his own thoughts so entangled. But he guesses, as he boards the small ship he’ll be commandeering, that it all roots on that creeping feeling that tells him, he will never see this place again.

It is the first time since Tobirama can remember that he wishes for something, anything to break this oppressive silence. Although if he thinks back on the years past there was always something more pressing to do than dwelling in said past. It seems this is the first time he’s been left alone with his thoughts and is a feeling he most certainly doesn’t enjoy.

There is a storm coming, he can smell it in the wind. His long, white ears twitch when the first drop of water hits one of them. Tobirama has never been bothered by the rain and it sort of suits his present mode. Even with his visual capacities impeded by the dark clouds and violent drops, the very power calls to him, he doesn’t need more guidance than that.

The small ship glides over the waves, the backpack and supplies wobbling under the tight net he used to secure them. At the helm, Tobirama extends a thin magical layer around the prow so the waves break against it instead of flooding it.

It doesn’t take long to get there, and it is so painful that his promised land has always been so close and yet so far. The ship hits the small pebble beach and for a moment, Tobirama doesn’t move.

‘”I’m home” he wants to say, but the words are suck in his throat. He falls to his knees as soon as his feet touch the ground, the supplies all but forgotten. The land smells like it did back then and after twenty years seeing the silhouette of Konoha in the distance, being here seems almost unbelievable. Tobirama prides himself in being a composed man even in the direst of situations, but when the soft breeze blows against his face and he can feel some sort of humidity running down his cheeks.

 

The dark figure is covered equally by long, unruly black hair and dark tattered clothes. The pale tips of two ears poke through the lion-like mane. For a moment, he stops turning to look at the almost hidden cottage he’s been living in for the past thirteen years. He’s not a man prone to sentimentalism but he’ll miss the quiet. He starts to take layers of clothes off, revealing a garnet armor. As he walks, he sheds his pose along with his clothing, slowly recovering his lost stance. By the time he can see Konoha again, several hours later, the man does look like Uchiha Madara again.

It’s a testament to how much he’s changed that he hesitates when approaching the tomb.  It’s not grand nor luxurious, it’s almost shamefully humble. Whenever he thinks of Hashirama, he envisions something ridiculously flashy and grand, like a giant head carved in the rock. But here there’s only a naked stone with a hastily carved name. Madara is tempted to straighten the words, to maybe embellish it in some way with his power. He doesn’t.

It’s not because he’s fallen so far as to be afraid of being discovered, it’s just that he doesn’t believe he has the right anymore. Too long has he run and hidden from his duty towards the man, and no matter how much he remembers broad, tanned hands on his skin, or ever-smiling lips over his own, he has long since betrayed such memories.

Mito could honor Hashirama, Madara thinks, after all she did live for him. He remembers too, smaller, paler hands and more hesitant lips. Does she hate him now? He wonders. He would hate himself if he were in her situation. But Hashirama was the binding that kept them together, and in the end, Madara couldn’t bring himself to stay if he wasn’t there. Madara thinks it says enough about his character that he didn’t love her enough to stay.

Perhaps, he’s simply not made for love for Mito is without a doubt the perfect woman. His own wife, despite being human, was beautiful, and brave and kind, but he never managed to get himself to love her either. Love is for him though, he thinks then remembering about his son and how much he loved him, how it felt to hold his tiny body, to feel his weight in his arms.

But along come the pain, how it felt to lose him, to have it ripped from his heart. It seems that no matter what the feels, only pain stays with him. Maybe he’s just made for loss.

“I’m sorry I’m so late” Madara whispers sitting by the tomb, he knows it’s not really respectful, but he’s never been nor would Hashirama like it. He throws an arm over the gravestone and leans into its coldness even if he only longs for warmth.

Madara is lost in thought when he suddenly notices a familiar presence coming closer, he can’t believe it for a moment. He gets up half furious half elated and thinks about marching towards the city to meet half way but in the last minute he decides he’ll wait here.  Tobirama is bound to come this way and hell if he’ll act like an excited schoolgirl for that asshole icicle.

Madara can’t quite shake the memories even as he prepares for the battle that is sure to occur. Tobirama is stronger than he used to be, Madara thinks, but he is better still. Nevertheless victory is gonna cost him. All victories worthwhile do.

 

Shisui touches the trees around him, sending pulses of his magic through them into the ground and up other trees, thus mapping most of the forest around him. The prosthesis feels heavy with the change in the weather but he’s so happy right now he could break into tears. It is the first time he’s been out of the complex since he lost his arm and eyes. But he’s not afraid, no matter whatever the clan or even Itachi might think, this is his place.

Leaning on a tall knotted staff, Shisui starts walking, the fresh smell of trees and life around him make worth the discomfort his injuries make him feel. As the forest starts to thin out giving way to steppe, it doesn’t take long for him to start hearing a small echo of his own steps. Shisui doesn’t acknowledge them, but can’t hold back a smile. He knows right away it is Sasuke. The boy is quite good for his age and he thinks about commending him, but ultimately decides on letting him believe himself undiscovered for the time being, the boy hardly receives enough encouragement at home as it is.

It is getting harder to hide in the bushes, Sasuke thinks looking at the back of his cousin’s armor. He’s far away, but he doesn’t have a problem following him. The armor is dark red and in these plains he can see him for miles. He’s wearing his own armor too, although his is dark blue, like the ones worn by the apprentices. Nervously, Sasuke searches his weapon pouch to make sure, for the umpteenth time that he has everything he might need. When he looks up, he curses when noticing his cousin has walked a good number of meters and has to run to keep up.

It’s hard too, to keep being stealthy while running.  But the pain in his ankles and the tension in his back is worth it, he’s not sure where Shisui is going, but he knows it is important, like one of those missions the heroes in the books do. If he goes with him, Sasuke is sure he will be able to prove himself. He’ll be able to show his father, the whole clan that he’s as good as his brother and he will show Itachi that he’s not just his stupid little brother, he’s his equal.

He can’t help but enjoy himself though; Sasuke had never realized the world was so big, so full of colors. It’s breathtaking really; even this land that is close to barren is stimulating for his childish eyes.

 

Shisui is tempted to turn around and scold the boy for being so careless but he decides not to when he notices the steps lightening, it must be really hard for Sasuke to follow and he’s sort of proud that he has the determination to come all the way here despite the danger.

He does eventually call to Sasuke. But it’s much later, when it’s dark and cold and he’s cooking a sausage by the fire. Shisui can hear Sasuke’s teeth chattering from where he’s standing, the sounds come slightly muffled though, as if the boy is trying to stop the sound with his hand. It’s not working, but rather than simply calling out to him for that, Shisui just holds the roasted sausage in the direction of the sounds and asks “Care for dinner, Sasuke?”

The boy comes out with a guilty frown in his face, but eagerly approaches the fire and takes the food. While he munches on it, Shisui stabs another sausage and begins roasting it too.

“How did you know it was me?” Sasuke asks.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full” Reprimands Shisui before answering “Your stealth is very good for a child your age, but I’ve got years upon years of experience, it wasn’t hard to figure it out. Besides, who would be so bold as to follow me after being expressly forbidden if not you?”

Sasuke swallows and laughs lightly. Shisui messes up his hair with a smile of his own and starts to eat his dinner.

 

There is an uncomfortable silence spreading like a fog around them. Not even the creatures of nature dare make a sound.

The other boy, stands by his side closer than he needs to be, but it feels right. Obito notices some small, golden, dust like substance gravitating around them in circular motions and feels the connection.

Minato –sensei and Rin start to talk about where to go, where to ask for help, but their eyes don’t stop looking between the charred ground and him. He can hear the proposals but none seem right. They talk about going to Uzushio to the Queen-in-Exile’s court, or to look up Jiraya’s old acquaintances, about the danger they will meet. This won’t be the last attack, but rather a prelude of what’s to come they say. Obito hears them muffled, as a growing, pitched sound invades his ears. He can’t think, he can’t concentrate on the conversation as the words start to fade away.

Then a hand finds his and grounds him. He looks up to find his party all looking at him. Obito can feel the doubt creeping up to them but the hand doesn’t let go. He remembers Hashirama’s words but he also remembers the scatter skeletons around Konoha. Obito knows that now he’s become sort of important but he’s also aware that not three days past he would have been one of the left behind. Can he really trust this brother of Hashirama? Can he really trust anyone really? He isn’t so sure, especially when now, he doesn’t trust even himself. He’s made his decision though, and he grips the hand tighter.

“No” For the first time, Obito speaks “If this power belongs to me it’s my responsibility to figure it out by myself.”


	6. The Grim Path

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taken me forever to get this done, I know, so I wan't to thank those who are still reading this. You guys are amazing.

The Grim Path

They are talking and laughing when Shisui notices the change in the air. He curses his own carelessness, born, no doubt of the years he’s spent hiding away.   
“Sasuke, find a place to hide” He whispers forcing the smile on his face to stay there. For a moment the boy doesn’t seem to understand, but then, as if alerted by the change in his demeanor, arrows start to fly and the boy bolts towards the rocks around them. Shisui doesn’t wait to see if Sasuke hides, he trusts him to do as he is told, instead he concentrates his aura in a protective sphere around himself and bites his finger letting the blood sweep down the knots of his staff. The battle stance is hard on the sensitive junctures of his artificial limbs but a welcomed position for the rest of him. As he moves, the arrows don’t stop. 

“Cowards” he calls “not one of you is man enough to get down here to fight a blind man and a child?!” there is movement in the stones, subtle and barely raising any dust when they move answering to his words. Trained cowards then, he thinks.   
Despite the too audible gasp Sasuke emits, Shisui doesn’t change the position, nor does he uncover the Uchiha symbol on his back. It’s been ages since he last fought and he wants to enjoy himself today, take his time. They swarm him, using the advantage of numbers, the only true advantage they have against him, but as soon as his barrier is breached, Shisui is unleashes his Susanoo. 

He’s furious, his usually calmed and pacifist demeanor forgotten, because he recognizes the pattern of attack and the magical signature. These are the troops of the man who took his eyes and arm. Shisui knows he shouldn’t do this in front of Sasuke, but he takes off the bandage that covers his magical orbs and lifts his eyelids. He doesn’t see, not in the strict sense of the word, but he can appreciate the particles in the air, moving and changing, letting him know exactly where his enemies are. The burst of color disorients him for a moment, but he quickly recovers, he can’t afford failure right now. Shisui’s Susanoo, boils with aggression and years of accumulated rage. The green giant’s color is so dark it looks closer to black, the summoning circle under his feet wilts and disappears, but the raw magic he absorbs through his eyes keeps Susanoo by his side. Dark, clouded magic surrounds him as his attackers seem frozen in place, Shisui doesn’t care, he wants blood.   
His feet leave the ground as the giant stands but through the connection he can still see the world around them. One giant foot makes the ground shake, then the other, he moves the enormous hands to a battle stance and summons the lance. The enemies make the mistake of staying, he guesses that they fear their boss him more than they fear him. But their boss isn’t here. 

“I am” he whispers to himself, and thrusts the lance, the point spinning and a vortex of flames burning wildly around it. 

“I’m really rusty” he says, again to himself, when his attack only hits three of the would be assassins. It doesn’t matter, he bats again and again, the smell of burning flesh attacks his senses but he forces himself to ignore it. He’s just warming up now, but next time, when he meets this soldiers’ master, all the rust will be gone. The agonizing screams reach him and he feels his righteous anger start to wane, in one last pass he takes out three more and undoes the summoning. 

Shisui softly lands, keeping up Susanoo is harder than it used to be, he after all, has less of a body to act as anchor. Having a familiar of such height and power comes with a price he’s not ready to pay yet. Shisui covers his eye again, there is only one of them left. The lone enemy throws himself at him with a scream thinking him exhausted, Shisui stops the sword with naked hands and deals first one kick and then another, the hand gripping the sword falters but that doesn’t make him stop. He’s tempted to let him run back to his master, to proclaim to the four winds his desire for revenge, but then a whimper to his left reminds him of Sasuke’s presence and he stops himself from playing with his food any further. With a twist he dislodges the blade from the hand that holds it, kicks the man one last time and beheads him with his own weapon. 

He mentally reprimands himself when Sasuke falters; Shisui knows how terrible his magic might seem for a young boy such as him but then, the boy in question jogs up to him and holds onto his hand. For a moment, Shisui is aware of how weak he really is right now. While his reserves replenish he won’t be able to see anything through his aura, since it’s still rebuilding itself, but Sasuke, who could very well take him out in this instant, just takes a cloth to his face and murmurs “You have blood on your cheek”   
Shisui has to admit, he’s proud of the boy for manning up so quickly. He’ll have to explain of course, especially since it’s very likely he’ll have to use his power further in the near future, but that is a discussion for another time. Instead, he picks up his staff, leans on it and holding Sasuke’s hand tighter, walks away. 

 

It’s like two hurricanes meeting in the middle. There are fists and kicks and eventually teeth. Ironically, none of them unsheathes their weapons or calls upon their vast quantities of magic. They fight like children until they are exhausted, fingers digging on each other’s torn clothes and faces inches apart. Their breaths mingle, but not with rage, not anymore, after all this time, it’s like something has siphoned their feelings away and they have nothing left. Afterwards, they lie in the mud, side by side, with new breaks on their skins and a few soul wounds patched up.

Madara looks older, Tobirama thinks looking at him from the corner of his eyes, his mane, always wild, now nearly unkempt, he looks like an old lion that’s been beaten far too many times. He supposes he shouldn’t start judging, give their shared history. However, it’s the first time he’s truly been aware of how hard the Uchiha took his brother’s death. There was always a connection between Hashirama and Madara he couldn’t quite explain, something that much to his shame he was always jealous of. They were more than brothers once, more than friends, an unstoppable force of magic and dreams, and he, with his mediocre powers –in comparison- and too much love for the rules could never hope to measure. He’d never been fully aware of the extent of that bond. Now however, looking into Madara’s eyes, he knows exactly what type of connection it was because he’s seen that look in Mito’s eyes for the past twenty years. It is heartbreak so deep it makes his own seem insignificant in comparison, and it makes his own heart break a little more. That ugly jealousy still coiling around his insides, only this time it does so for an entire different reason and he feels even sicker. 

He doesn’t say anything instead concentrating on recuperating. Tobirama hasn’t had such an intense fight, so filled with known patterns in a long, long time. And it was as refreshing as it was painful. He’s used to the pain though, and also to the tightening in his chest every time his eyes land on the man that lies by his side. Tobirama lets his eyes linger for a moment and then looks away. By looking away, he doesn’t notice how Madara does the exact same thing.

 

Despite his earlier show of conviction, Obito doesn’t know exactly what to do. He thinks about the Archmage’s face, with a kind smile and hard, sad eyes. He doesn’t have a kind smile, he thinks, or a kind disposition really, life beat the kindness out of him long ago. He remembers for a moment the torment of Paladin training with the White Hand, the relief of being taken away by Minato –sensei, the hope of freedom that came with becoming a Rogue. All those things have been washed away by the Staff and Sword in his hands and the magic they carry, but they were all lies anyway, he thinks. Minato –sensei wanted him for this and this alone and being a Rogue never brought him freedom, only more scorn. The pain alone was real, then again, the pain always is. But perhaps, with this power that now courses through his veins like blood, that pulses with his hearts and makes him feel like someone else, he can get that freedom. He’s seen the world for the broken ruin that it is, and he’s self-aware enough to know he can’t fix it but perhaps, he can fix his own life instead.

 

They make it to almost halfway through to their destination before they have to stop for the night. After they eat Shisui ensures Sasuke’s ready for the night and then picks up the leftovers, it’s a cowardly way to ignore the curiosity that escapes the boy, but it’s all he has right now.

Later, when everything is quiet and the boy lies fully asleep, resting under the cover of the night, Shisui reflects on his innocence, he doesn’t kid himself, if the other members of the clan knew the lengths he was willing to walk for his revenge they’d surely end him on the spot. Or they would try. He never considered himself as a vengeful man, perhaps it was a show of arrogance the fact that he was always thought himself above the Clan’s most famous urge. But something changed inside him the moment he woke up and the world around him was black. And yet, what truly broke him wasn’t the inability to fight or cast spells, but the pity that one cold morning swept into Itachi’s voice. Will it be worth it? He wonders, the price that already is taking a toll on him. 

But it doesn’t truly matter; it’s too late now to go back on his end of the bargain. Reaching out with his good arm, he covers Sasuke further and for just a tiny moment he wishes he could go back to those precious, innocent years.

He ensures the clan symbol painted onto Sasuke’s armor is well-hidden underneath his cloak, and then retreats into the shadows. With how low his magical reserves are right now –after all one of the orbs is still reforming- he couldn’t afford to conjure black fire, so he sets an ambush instead. Despite how tired he feels, Shisui is determined not to sleep. His carelessness almost cost them everything earlier today, he can’t allow himself to make another mistake. As he sits there, shrouded in shadows, he can’t keep the memories at bay, he’s too tired to even try. The pity is still heavily present on his mind, but with some effort, he pushes it away in favor of other feelings, his own this time, he usually doesn’t dwell in. 

But he needs them, he needs this, the awareness of all his wounds, all his scars to ground him. So Shisui closes the eyes of his mind and reminisces.  
There are two eras in his life, the happy one, which started when he was born and the one he is in now. The one that started when he lost his first fight. The fear creeps up on him, a cold, bitter and twisted thing as he remembers trying to open up his eyes in this new era. He tries some calming breathing exercises but the only thing that chases the fear away is rage. So he stews in his anger, holding its coils tight to his chest so they won’t unravel and set the tallgrass around them on fire. 

Images pass in quick succession, the known ones of darkness and despair and those he’s tried to forget of a pain even worse as the orbs grew in his sockets, burning them forever, the symbol of his pact etched into them. A dark voice crooning in his ear, reminding him of the price of that deal born of anguish and desperation, as if he could ever forget. So empty it had left him, and so he continues to feel, deep inside. He’d been willing to give anything to recover a world full of colors but he ended up promising his soul for the hope of revenge. 

He can’t see as he did before though, with these orbs, but he can feel the light and the darkness and everything in between.  
It’s not too late to surrender a treacherous part of his brain tells him. He could give up, he could turn around and head back to the safety of the compound, if there is any safety to be had. But it’s not true, he can taste the deception in his mouth, feel it echoing in his mind. There is no turning back because this is his destiny. It’s a cruel fate what awaits for him at the end of this grim path he’s taken, Shisui knows. 

But it’s still his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t make up Shisui’s attack, it’s from “Naruto Shippuden: Ultimate Ninja Storm” and was designed by Masashi Kishimoto for the game. 
> 
> R&R


End file.
